Winds of Fate
by Elf Kid2.0
Summary: Remix of Damsel's Fate! Now with alternate POV's, and possibly missing scenes to come!


_Dear Roxanne,_

_I'm sorry you got hurt. I didn't mean for you to get hurt; I didn't want to hurt you. It doesn't matter what I meant, and it doesn't matter what I want. It doesn't change the end results. I know that apologies won't fix this, but you deserve them anyway. You deserve a lot of things._

_I'll update the safety-precautions for the hostage-seat and death-traps. Preemptive or accidental harm to captives does nothing but damage my credibility in hostage-negotiations and risk equal or greater retaliation from the blowhard Hero._

_That isn't actually relevant to you. You broke up with Metro Man, and I have no reason to kidnap you anymore. Good for you. You deserve better than him. You deserve better than me; you deserve better than any of this. You deserve the world at your feet. He can't even keep you safe; he can't even keep the city safe from me, and you deserve the world._

_I don't actually know why you broke up with Metro Man. If you want revenge against him, we could collaborate. I have a lot of weapons, armor, and equipment, and I know you have ideas that could improve the plans and operations exponentially. You'd look great in leather and spikes. Please think about it. I know you don't like me. You have every reason to hate me. But, if you decide you hate Metro Man more, I hope we can come to an alliance. Please._

_Be in touch. Contact information is on the envelope._

_Yours, Megamind._

He burned the first draft of the letter. It was too needy, too pleading, to undignified and unprofessional and obvious. He'd written it more to get his feelings out than anything else; it wasn't meant for anyone else to see. But. He wrote it, and he burned it, and now he had to try to write the actual letter to Roxanne. Initiating communication-at-a-distance was absolutely necessary for both of their peace of mind, considering what happened when they last saw each other.

Her injured and bleeding, her shirt covered in blood, being carried away in the arms of her heroic boyfriend (_ex-boyfriend, now_), and him alone left to turn off the cameras and clean the blood off his useless, damaged, malfunctioning wreck of a deathtrap.

Fire was a very effective cleaning-agent.

He could work on writing the letter to Roxanne Ritchi. Or, he could work on his next evil scheme. Arachnids were fun; he'd had fun with the spider theme in the last few ventures. It wasn't the spider-bot, or the web that had caused things to go wrong; it was the bricks. The bricks were heavy, solid, and more cheaply available than a solid block of equivalent mass, but perhaps he should avoid using them in the future. At least until he figured out a way to mitigate how easily loose bricks turned into solid chunks of dangerous flying debris.

He made a note of the issue, re: bricks, then leaned back in his chair, twirling his pen. So. Arachnids. Arachnids were good, but maybe something other than spiders this time? He didn't want to get in a rut. Maybe he could do something with solifugae? They were suitably creepy-looking predators, capable of killing and eating small birds, and hairy enough to justify covering a robot-version with spikes… The only problem was that the average citizen of Metro probably couldn't recognize a solifugid if it marched down Main Street and crushed their car. It was never as much fun when his brilliance too far exceeded the general populace's ability to comprehend it.

Scorpions! Scorpions would be better.

_To Roxanne Ritchi-_

_I apologize for causing you injury during our last encounter. It was unintentional, and I will endeavor to prevent similar collateral damage from occurring in the future. I hope your recovery goes optimally. Enclosed is money to compensate for the difficulties, and to cover for the medical expenses. It's the very least I could do._

_I was thrilled to hear that you broke up with Captain Wonder-bread. If you want vengeance against him for anything, or if you just feel like annoying him, I'd like to remind you that the 'Evil Queen' offer still stands…_

Scorpions were terrifying and intimidating, with armored exo-skeletons and venomous stingers: it wasn't often you found in nature a creature with the perfect place to put to put (non-eye) lasers already built in. Megamind grabbed a poster-board and started sketching. Later, he'd want reference-photos, maybe even live scorpions, just to get a clearer understanding of how they moved and how the joints fit together. For the moment, the big question was if he should make one giant Scorpion-bot, or lots of little ones? Or both? Both was always fun…

..._If the money enclosed isn't enough to pay for your medical expenses, let me know (contact information attached) and I will cover the difference. Be warned, though: I will be checking the hospital records and the data from your insurance-company to verify any claims, and I will NOT be extorted. I pay my debts, but I refuse to pay interest._

_I understand that you've recently left Metro Man. If this is your first step towards becoming a Super Villain congratulations! However, you should know that for villains operating in Metro City, there are certain rules…_

Picture-books had been a scarce commodity when he was a child, but a particular story stood out to him: _The Scorpion and the Frog_. Scorpion had business on the far side of the river, so he made a deal with Frog: if Frog took him across the water safely, he'd let Frog live. Halfway across the water Scorpion, compelled by his innately evil nature, broke his word and stung Frog, causing both of them to drown. Evil inevitably destroys itself and everyone around it.

Perhaps a self-destruct mechanism for the scorpion-bot army would be appropriate, then? It would be a good security feature as well, to keep his technology from falling into the wrong hands. He made a note in the corner of the posterboard- lots of smaller scorpions; definitely. A bigger scorpion meant a bigger explosion when it self-destructed, which meant greater risk of collateral damage. He couldn't afford to look like he was deliberately targeting civilians now; he wasn't suicidal.

_He wasn't suicidal; he wasn't suicidal; he wasn't he wasn't he wasn't!_

It wasn't as if he was putting a self-destruct mechanism in anything he'd be riding, or in any weapon he planned on holding. The button would be covered, and labelled in cyrillic, and it would _not_ be red, because he knew how his own impulses worked. Megamind wasn't stupid enough to blow up his own vehicle on _purpose_.

Minion would prefer that they never include a self-destruct button in anything.

_...enforce certain rules for villains operating in Metro City. The Rules exist for a reason, and I do not make exceptions for anyone. Not even you. Since I respect your priorities as a reporter, I will not provide any further details unless they become more directly relevant to you. Having said that, if you become interested in exchanging exclusive information for equipment, perhaps we…_

Minion always gave him a _look_ when he brought up the possibility of self-destruct mechanisms. Megamind took a deep, slow breath, then let it out. Maybe he wouldn't include the self-destruct button in the final designs after all, since it might make Minion worry. Minion always overworked himself when he was worried: double- and triple-checking all the designs, all the machines, cooking too much food and insisting that Megamind eat, staying up too late looking for articles on health or vehicle-safety technology or the spiritually soothing properties of water.

Minion worked too hard as it was; it would be better not to worry him over nothing. Megamind hesitated a moment, then wrote down that the final design for the scorpion-bots would need Minion's approval before they started building. They he wrote it down again, on a note-card destined for the Idea Cloud. There. Surely Minion wouldn't worry too much, so long as he was kept in the loop. It wasn't as if he were keeping secrets. Mayhem and destruction had always been their bread and butter.

Megamind propped up the poster-board against the wall and brushed aside some crumpled, torn attempts at letter-writing, making room for more note-cards. He needed to get all of this written down, while it was fresh in his head. He needed to make sure it was all ready to go, when he started updating the Idea Cloud. He needed some reference-photos of scorpions.

This could even be fun.

Maybe.

_...value our working relationship, and hope that the recent incidents will not negate the possibility of our working together in the future. Given your career as an investigative reporter, it's likely that our paths will cross again, as I fully intend to continue making headlines for years to come. Looking thus towards the future, I wondered if you might consider…_

Being honest with himself, it wasn't as if he actually expected this plan to work. He just had to try anyway. Every day, he had to make the effort, even if it didn't feel worthwhile. Even when it all felt pointless, he had to keep going, keep working, keep trying to remember the fact that sometimes things were actually fun and comfortable and worth living for. There were good things in the world; he just had to keep trying to remember that. Statistically, if he tried enough times, in enough ways, _something_ was bound to hurt Metro Man eventually.

_...be a magnificent Evil Queen. Together, we could rule the city and…_

Professionalism. That was the key. Never go too long without making a public appearance. Respect certain boundaries, so that others are obligated to respect your boundaries in turn. Walls made of smiles and spikes and lasers and politeness. This was just business, it was nothing personal, and he needed to remember that and be professional about it.

Roxanne Ritchi had left her boyfriend in the dust, but that wasn't relevant to him. The fact that they were now both single, and the fact that he happened to enjoy her company quite a bit, was not relevant to their _strictly professional_ relationship. It just meant that didn't currently have a ready excuse to kidnap her any more. That was all.

The letter, the version he'd actually end up delivering, had to be strictly professional. Cool and distant, impersonal and transactional. Cool and distant. The relationship was already weird, because he was one of the people involved. It was already bad, because she'd been seriously hurt as a direct result of his actions. He didn't need to make it worse.

(_His restraints, holding her down so she couldn't dodge, couldn't run, couldn't fight. His grudge, his villainy, his fight. His bricks, sent flying. His deathtrap, built with his own hands. His blades. Her blood on his hands, and if they had cut just a little bit deeper, it might have been a fatal injury, and it was all his fault…)_

Megamind took a deep breath. In and out. In and out. He pressed his gloved hands against the table and focused on the sensation. Pressure and smooth textures.

In. And. Out.

He breathed, and focused on the familiar smells around him: oil and sawdust, metal, and lightning, tomato soup that had gone cold hours ago, while he was too distracted to eat. Breath in and out.

Roxanne was not dead. He did not kill her. These were objectively true facts. In and out. The feeling of the desk against his hands, and the ground underfoot, and the familiar smells of the Lair. He focused on his breathing, and on the physical sensations of the moment, grounding himself the way that one book said. Everything was going to be okay. It was entirely possible for everything to be okay.

Professionalism; that was the key. Things may be bad, things may be weird, but he had the power to keep it from getting worse. All he had to do was keep moving, stay cool, and pay attention to the not-insignificant body of evidence that supported looking on the bright side.

Megamind stood up, retrieved the bowl of soup from the shelf where he'd set it earlier, and went to heat it up in the microwave. He would eat first, and maybe get a drink of water, and afterwards he could get back to work. He wouldn't neglect maintenance routines for the brain-bots; he shouldn't neglect maintenance routines for himself. He would work on it again after he'd eaten.

* * *

_To the esteemed Miss Ritchi,_

_Congratulations on leaving Metro Man! It takes courage to walk away from a long-term relationship with a ridiculously popular Hero, and that is the sort of courage I respect! Metro Man is and always has been an annoyingly self-righteous, muscle-headed showboat who never appreciated how good he had it. No doubt you have left him utterly heartbroken and potentially vulnerable to attack- so I really must thank you for that._

_I would like to know if you are thinking about becoming a Super-Villain. A person with your intelligence, persistence, keen observational skills, and experience working with Supers would definitely be welcome among the Forces of Evil in Metro City. I think you have a lot of potential for Evil in you, if you just put your mind to it! If you are interested in a career in Villainy, please be in touch. As the Master of All Villainy in Metro City, I will inform you of the Rules, territory boundaries, and certain specialty suppliers involved in operating as a Villain in Metro City. _

_While I don't anticipate any problems in this regard, I must warn you: if you choose a career in Villainy and you break the Rules in this city, your career will end very swiftly. My regard for you in our working relationship will not prevent me from enforcing the Rules._

_That said, if you are interested in becoming a Super Villain, I hope you will consider working with me. If you would inform me of Metro Man's weakness, I would be willing to provide you with weapons, armor/costume, and other resources. We could rule the city within the year. If unavoidable, unforeseen setbacks were to prevent that, well, my organization provides excellent healthcare services and you know that Minion is good at snacks._

_Speaking of health-plans, I am very sorry that you got hurt in the course of my last scheme. It was unintentional, and when I injure someone, I want it to be on purpose. Enclosed with this letter is a gift of $1000 cash. It should be adequate to cover your medical expenses. I have always valued our working relationship, and I hope that if you decide to become a Super Villain, you will choose to work with me. If you decide that Villainy is not your destined path, then I will respect your decision._

_I wish you good fortune with your future endeavors, whatever they may be._

_Best Regards_

_Megamind_

_Incredibly Handsome Criminal Genius and Master of All Villainy._

* * *

Two days after he delivered the letter- and a rose, because he couldn't help himself- two days after he delivered the letter to Roxanne's apartment, he marched on City Hall, riding aboard the Spider-Bot at the head of his terrifying army of Scorpion Screamers. The people of Metro City cowered in fear in the face of his might: as they should

It had been two days, and he hadn't heard from Roxanne at all, and he probably wouldn't even get to see her today, because he wasn't kidnapping her today. This was fine. He was fine. She was alive. Everything was as it should be.

He was at the head of a terrifying army of arachnids, and their combined sonic and sub-sonic weapons would definitely disorient Metro Man enough to incapacitate him, and he would rule the city with an iron fist.

The Scorpion-Screamers were equipped with self-destruct mechanisms. Each one would have a fairly small blast-radius.

Everything was as it should be.


End file.
